


Puppet Theatre

by Stefanyeah



Category: Muse
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Master/Slave, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stefanyeah/pseuds/Stefanyeah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four Men playing a game…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppet Theatre

**Author's Note:**

> Don‘t ask… I don‘t quite know where exactly this one came from. Well, one scene is inside my head since Allwithwing‘s Silence the only Veil and was _begging_ to be used. I changed two of the three active persons of that one though. :P  
>  Actually that scene is the reason this whole epos of wicked debauchery came to existence.  
> And that‘s me actually wanting to write some Het again.  
> I seem to try and top myself in filthyness at times, too.  
> Thanks go to Maddy and Chantal for beta'ing.
> 
> Read at your own risk.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I only own the plot. The characters all belong to themselves. And I‘m pretty sure this has never happened and never ever will happen apart from twisted fangirl dreams.  
> 

**The Doll**  
I feel so dirty. But you don‘t care about that, do you? Forcing my head down on David‘s length. Your hand tightly in my hair, blindfolded, and arms bound behind my back; I‘m helpless. You hiss in my ear, “You love it, really.”

We didn‘t know who would be playing which role when we arrived at the apartment we had chosen as the location for our monthly games. Nor did we know which game to play. It would all be decided that very evening, at random. Several red velvet pouches, each filled with four cards. On each card, one word; the word which would dictate our roles for the night. From the moment they were revealed, to the moment the sun rose, we had to stick to our assigned roles. No arguments. No objections. As soon as you revealed your card, you assumed the stated role.

We each drew cards in turn; David, Dom, you, me. David unfolded his card. Audience. And I felt a dark foreboding crawl through my veins. Dom unfolded his card. Audience. I shuddered, not quite knowing what was on the last two cards, but I had an inkling that one of them would be bad. And then you opened your card and turned it around, grinning widely at me.

You, John, had drawn the Puppeteer, and I just knew what my role would be, and that you would show me no mercy. I closed my eyes when I unfolded my card, not knowing whether to be excited or scared. I glanced at you before looking at it. You smirked at me, hungry and sardonic. Sure that tonight I could not get away from you; tonight I would be your Doll, and you my Puppeteer.

That‘s why, half an hour later, I find myself swallowing David‘s cock and being fucked from behind by you. The chains around my ankles are just long enough to allow me to spread my legs for you. My pace on David‘s cock is set by you, yanking my head up and pushing it roughly back again, uncaring if I gag or not.

I groan when you hit my prostate and push my head further down than before, almost making me choke. I try to concentrate on David‘s cock in my mouth, on your hand in my hair, on you in me; try to ignore my own need and arousal. I know you don‘t want me to come just yet.

For a moment I distract myself by wondering if you plan for me to come at all tonight. But my train of thought is brought to an abrupt end when I feel David tense underneath me; you grunt, pressing my head roughly down into his lap and, good Doll that I am, I suck hard on his rigid member. Your final thrust pushes me even further into his groin, my nose pressed into brunette pubic hair.

I fall to the side once both of you have released yourselves in me. David‘s come is still on my lips and tongue, and I swallow before it spills down to the floor, sure there are still traces of him on my face. I know that I can‘t prevent your come from running down my leg, possibly staining the carpet, when you pull me up to kneel and take off the blindfold.

 

 

**The Audience**  
After the roles were allocated, John and Matt disappeared into the bedroom, while David and I sat down on red cushions, in a room decorated in lascivious tones of decadent, Erythraean velvet. It took a while before John stepped out of the bedroom, wearing a black suit with a white shirt and black tie. I rolled my eyes. He had enjoyed playing the Master a little too much.

He grinned and clapped his hands, calling into the bedroom. “Come out and show yourself to our audience, Matthew, my sweet Doll.”

Matt emerged in the doorway, self-conscious and hesitant. Leather cuffs were fastened around his wrists and above his elbows, around his ankles and above his knees, a collar wrapped around his neck. And from each leather strap hung a chain, each ending in a snap hook.

John grinned madly. “Gentlemen, my dearest audience,” He bowed to each of us. “Tonight, we present to you a show you won‘t forget for a long time.” He grabbed the leash around Matt‘s neck and pulled him down into a bow.

I wasn‘t sure if Matt would hate him or love him forever after this night. I had always held the suspicion that this little pervert had been waiting for someone to take control of him, but he’d never admitted to anything of the sort. However, tonight, he couldn‘t escape even if he’d wanted to. The rules were set; we’d all agreed them from the beginning of our monthly gatherings. No arguments. No changing your mind once your role was revealed. From the moment of revelation to the moment the sun rose. And when I think of what Matt had put us through on some nights… He should have known he‘d be looking forward to a hard night. He should have known he deserved what was coming to him, should we ever have the chance.

John led Matt by the leash into the middle of the room, pulling the leather strap down towards the floor and forcing Matt to bend forward. But this was obviously not to John‘s satisfaction, so he pushed his foot against the hollow of Matt‘s knee.

The singer took the hint and gently fell forward, leaning back on his calves and looking enquiringly up at John. I could feel my mouth going dry just from seeing Matt obeying someone‘s orders and kneeling naked, leashed and almost bound in front of us. This was going to be even more fun than previous nights.

“Doll,” John spoke and Matt straightened up. “Look ahead.” Without hesitation, Matt averted his eyes, staring straight ahead at us, his eyes flickering over our naked skin. Skin he himself had marked more than once before.

I watched John taking off his tie and approaching Matt from behind. I was not sure if Matt had heard him approaching, or was just choosing to ignore him. Anyway, he didn’t utter a single sound as John looped the tie around his eyes, covering up the piercing blue eyes.

Matt remained upright as John grabbed his arms and secured them together behind his back. Elbow to elbow and wrist to wrist. He gnawed his lips, keeping all sounds inside his small frame, shivering slightly with his skin stained red. He enjoyed this treatment alright.

John bent further down to tie Matt‘s legs together, leaving just enough leeway for him to scramble forward. John then walked to his front and grabbed the leash, tugging and pulling the bound man towards David. Matt shuffled forward, close to falling twice, but always managing to stay upright.

John told him to stop in front of his colleague, he then stepped back behind Matt, fumbling with his own belt and the button of his trousers, letting them fall to the ground, revealing his hard cock. Smirking with delight, he wrapped his hand around the nape of Matt’s neck and hissed in his ear. “Open your mouth, Doll.”

Without any hesitation, those pretty, red lips parted and a tongue darted out to wet them, nervously. I glanced at David; open-mouthed, wide-eyed, panting and rock-hard. He could have come there and then, even without John pushing Matt‘s head down to engulf his cock with those  
red lips, lips I had so often dreamt of around _my_ cock.

 

 

**The Puppeteer**  
Oh, how I love to control you. You, who’s always prancing about onstage, always so in control of everything. You, who somehow always managed to draw the dominating cards in our little role plays. I’d been waiting for a chance to finally dominate you.

At first glance, you don‘t seem to like to submit, but I can see through your façade. All the times you pushed us before, when you were the one who really wanted to be pushed around. You were just putting us through hell, so we wouldn‘t forget to give you a good seeing-to once we got the chance.

You could have walked away before even opening your card.I’m sure you had a good idea about the fourth card‘s nature. You could have left and spared yourself this humiliation. You knew full well what would await you tonight, all in my hands, at my mercy. You had the choice, and still you revealed your card. I won‘t show you any mercy, because you don‘t expect it at all. Because you don‘t _want_ any.

Being used is exactly what you want. What you need and crave.

I pat your head proudly and release the snap hooks to give myself leeway to bend you into the next position. You comply smoothly, and soon you‘re exactly how I want you, ready to be taken by your fellow band member.

 

 

**The Audience**  
I watched how John directed Bellamy into a backbend and secured his arms to his legs, preventing the lithe singer from changing position. I glanced at Howard. He fidgeted with his hands in his lap, alternately licking or gnawing his lips. He was waiting for his turn.

I looked back at John, standing over his Doll, closely watched by him. The actor’s lips curled up into a smirk and he shoved a pillow under Bellamy. After this unexpected act of kindness, he dragged a chair towards Bellamy and slumped down into it. Gracing the bound man with a last sneer, he directed his eyes towards Howard.

“Have you ever fucked him?”

The blond swallowed and snorted. “Are you joking? We‘re talking about Matthew Bellamy here.” He swallowed again, clearly imagining what it would be like to fuck this man senseless. I could feel my own cock twitching at the thought of how I’d felt just a few minutes before.

”Do you want to?” John asked, in the same casual tone he’d probably use if he were simply offering a cigarette. He waved his hand at the singer. “Be my guest.”

I could hear Howard gulping thickly, and within seconds, he was kneeling between Bellamy‘s half-spread legs. I glanced down at his groin to see a fully erect cock. I looked up again to see his predatory grin. He took in the subservient man in front of him, let his eyes wander over the flushed skin, the half-erect member, his ears attuned to the harsh breathing. Oh, Bellamy was undeniably enjoying this whole situation.

Howard glanced up at John, his eyes asking for final permission. Still sneering, John nodded once.

“I hope you don‘t mind using the remnants of my come as lubricant, though.”

Howard chuckled and without delay, entered his band mate. All the while, Bellamy stared directly at John. Even when his blond friend picked up the pace, pounding violently into him, Bellamy simply stared at his Puppeteer.

I could sense Howard‘s frustration about Bellamy ignoring him. He gripped the lithe man‘s hips hard enough to bruise, scratched at his sides, pounded even harder into him, all just to get Bellamy to acknowledge him, even if only by one look. But all the singer did was stare at John. Sometimes he whimpered or moaned, but mostly he remained silent, biting his lips to prevent any noise from escaping. I briefly glanced at John. He grinned fondly down at his Doll, clearly approving of his endeavours.

I noticed my hand had curled around my own, already straining cock. I let go again and crawled forward, seeking eye contact with John. He smirked knowingly at me, and taking that as permission, I extended a hand to touch Bellamy‘s skin; running my hand up and down his chest, pinching at erect nipples, even eliciting a strangled shriek. Spurred on by his reaction, I leant down to lick and nibble and bite at the small nub, feeling the tremors of Howard‘s thrusts and the quick rise and fall of Bellamy‘s ribcage underneath my mouth.

My hand was working on myself once again, and I could feel my second orgasm for the evening approaching fast. Next to me, I heard the familiar groan of Howard as he came, and I straightened up far enough to shoot my load over Bellamy‘s upper body.

Howard and I slumped back and panted, watching our semen run over Bellamy’s body, which had still been denied release. A filthy sneer spread over Howard‘s face and he leant forward to run his fingers over Bellamy‘s thighs and between the crevice of this small, fine ass. He then removed his hand and crawled towards Bellamy‘s head, running his sticky fingers through my come on his way, before pushing his besmeared fingers into the unresisting mouth of his friend.

Bellamy gazed up at John as if waiting for an instruction, while Howard wriggled fingers around in his mouth. John nodded, and Bellamy started sucking and licking them, until John rose from his chair and indicated to Howard to step back.

Once again he released the snap hooks keeping his plaything in position and tugged at the leash for him to get up. Bellamy complied, all the while looking at the floor and avoiding eye contact. I wondered if he was ashamed, or had just immersed himself completely in his assigned role. Whatever the reason, the poor boy was still hard and far from satisfied. I felt a short pang of sympathy for him, but then… the last time we’d met, he’d denied me release for hours. The sadistic bastard had this coming his way, months back.

I stared, smirking, at the patterns of semen on his skin and reclined back onto the comfy, big pillow on the floor. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Howard doing the same. He wore the same self-satisfied smirk on his lips that I could feel on mine.

I turned to him and shuffled nearer, extending my hand to run through his soft, blond hair. Still smirking, he glided over, his lips finding mine almost immediately. As I sunk into the languid kiss, I could hear the door to the bedroom click shut.

 

 

**Backstage**  
They leave the Audience to indulge in each other, or to rest, or do whatever they want for the time being. The Puppeteer sits down on the bed, beckoning the Doll to stand in front of him.

“So, how did you like your night as my Doll?” He knows the answer, but he wants the other to say it.

The Doll looks up, gnawing on his lips. Eventually, he nods.

The Puppeteer grins. “Say it. I want you to say it. Loud and clear.”

The Doll closes his eyes briefly, before opening them again, piercing blue flashing at the Puppeteer. “You know I enjoyed it.”

“The night is not over yet.” the Puppeteer states, waiting for the Doll to react, to look down, or just blush; to show any sign of embarrassment, shame, discomfort. But nothing like that happens. Instead the Doll looks straight at his master, unblinking.

“Operate me.”

The Puppeteer smirks, satisfied. “That‘s my Doll.” He pats his lap. “Come here.”

The Doll obeys and sits down on the Puppeteer‘s lap, sideways, and waits for what’s to come.

“You didn’t come tonight,” The Puppeteer gently strokes the long-neglected flesh of the Doll, and the Doll whimpers. “Only catered to the needs of your audience and doing what your Puppeteer told you to.” He watches the Doll shudder and flinch under his touch.

“Dom did not like me giving you all of my attention, though,“ the Doll murmurs.

The Puppeteer sniggers lightly. “He can have you for himself as soon as the fortunes allow him to.” He tiptoes over the hardened flesh of the Doll’s member with his fingers, enjoying the hushed whines and almost uttered begging.

“You knew what the last card would be, after I’d revealed mine.” The Puppeteer picks up the conversation again.

“Yes.” The Doll whimpers.

“You knew I would be sadistic.”

The Doll shudders and slumps against the chest of the Puppeteer, growing frustrated by the teasing. “Yes.”

“You could have chosen not to open it.“ The Puppeteer curls his hands lightly around the Doll‘s flesh. “Could have walked away and spared yourself the embarrassment.”

“I could have.” The Doll groans, trying to plead with his voice just how much he needs the other man to move his hand.

“You _wanted_ to be operated by me.” It’s a statement, not a question, and the Doll doesn‘t answer to it. He just moans in relief when the hand around his flesh grips tighter and starts to move.

They sit for a moment, the Puppeteer gliding his hand over the Doll‘s flesh, before the Puppeteer‘s hand is stilled by the Doll. The Puppeteer raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Your…suit.” The Doll explains faintly.

The Puppeteer smiles, pleased that even in this state, the Doll rejects his own needs in favour of his Puppeteer. He releases the flesh of the Doll and turns a bit, pressing the Doll backwards onto the bed.

The Doll complies, dark and concerned eyes fixed on the superior man. Still smiling, the Puppeteer runs his hand downwards over the hot skin of the Doll until it reaches the hard flesh again. He resumes his ministrations, taking care so that the come only hits the Doll‘s own skin when it happens.

He looks down at his smeared hand and lifts it to the Doll‘s hot panting mouth. Red lips part wider, and the Puppeteer slips his fingers in; the Doll‘s tongue curls around them, sucking them clean of come.

“What do you say?” The Puppeteer smirks down at his Doll, once his fingers are clean. “Shall we go back and give our audience an encore?“

The Doll grins mischievously and sits up to kiss the hand of the Puppeteer, then takes it in his own and curls the Puppeteer‘s fingers around his leash.


End file.
